


Second Chances

by JustYourFriendlyNeighborhoodFicWriter



Category: Marvel (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-03-29 22:40:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19029412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustYourFriendlyNeighborhoodFicWriter/pseuds/JustYourFriendlyNeighborhoodFicWriter
Summary: Pietro didn't expect to die that day at Sokovia, let alone be brought back by a stranger. Leanna expected to die that day in Sokovia, but because of Pietro she lived. She gave him a second chance, and she'll help him adjust to life in the living again.





	1. Chapter 1

Pietro gasped, feeling as if his lungs were on fire. His body was still sore, the pain and memories from earlier flooding back to him. He had died, or felt as if he had died at least. He had ran in front of Clint to save him and young boy from being shot by Ultron. He remembered blacking out, his breath leaving his body. So how was he back?

He sat up slowly, his breathing gradually returning back to normal. He looked around, the room unfamiliar. He was in an average bedroom, small, with the single bed against the wall. It wasn't decorated, the walls bare white with only a closet and bedside table to fill it. He glanced down, noticing his clothes were also different. The blue sports shirt he had worn before was gone, replaced by a black tshirt, his pants now light grey sweatpants. He ran a hand through his hair, slowly getting out of the bed he woke up in and walking out of the room.

He made his way down the hallway, peeking around the corner toward the empty living room. He hesitated, unsure if he was alone or if who or whatever brought him back was around. The living room was just as bare as his room was, the only thing in it a couch. It was as if nobody actually lived here. Abandoned along with him. Though, he quickly learned that was not the case, the sound of keys and a lock turning causing his body to tense up in both fear and anxiety. It was thankfully just a harmless looking girl, who’s dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She walked in, smiling when she saw him. "You're awake." Her tone was gentle and filled with relief, a soft hint of an accent he couldn’t quite place in her voice. She shut the door behind her and set down the bags she had carried in onto the kitchen counter that was next the entrance of the small apartment. "Welcome back to the land of the living." She attempted to joke, his unamused look making the smile she had fade and the atmosphere tense further. She averted her gaze down toward the ground, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly. “Sorry, stupid joke." She mumbled, grabbing one of the bags and walking past him. He didn't move, watching her carefully as she began to put away the contents of the bags, keeping out a few things.

"I...um....I brought back food if you're hungry. It's been a little while since I had.....healed you, I guess you could call it. I also you could technically call it necromancy except I didn’t use magic and I didn’t know you’d come back from the dead." She started, keeping her attention away from him and on putting things in their place. "Sorry. I ramble a lot. There's um....also more clothes in the closet of the room you woke up in. Old clothes from....well that isn't important. There is um....also towels if you wanted to shower. Bathroom is in the other door you may have seen. I can’t imagine you wanna stay covered in dirt and ash." She added, going to grab another bag. She stopped when he grabbed her arm, tensing in his grip. It wasn’t too hard, but his drip was strong.

"How?" He asked, his voice rough and dry. She hesitated, finally meeting his intense gaze. 

"What do you mean?" She asked quietly, her voice shaking a bit.

"How am I back?"

"I....I healed you." She said softly, her voice almost a whisper. "I....it’s hard to explain. I have....I have powers. Like you, but different. I can heal someone’s injuries and I....I guess bringing people back, is one of them.....lucky you." She added, chuckling humorlessly. He looked her over before letting her go, not taking his eyes off her for a second. She could be lying, could be Hydra and dangerous. She turned to grab a water bottle from one of the bags, holding it out to him. "Here." She offered, glancing up at him slightly. He took a moment before grabbing it, drinking all of it quickly. The feeling of the cold water felt like heaven. His throat was dryer than he’s expected. She quickly finished what she was doing before turning and leaning back on the counter. "You saved me...back in Sokovia." She began, crossing her arms and keeping her eyes to the ground. "When I had seen you....” she hesitated, speaking softer, “ya know...I thought that....since I could heal I could bring you back. You saved me, I thought I would return the favor." She finished, finally looking up at him again. “I didn't know if it would work....I've never actually brought anyone back before....I just hoped it would." She smiled to herself, turning to begin whatever concoction of food she was making. "And it did."

He was quiet for a while, trying to process....being alive, being brought back. It was all too much, it felt like it wasn’t real. His body didn’t feel right, felt weightless. Maybe he just needed to get use to being alive again. He took a shaky breath, shutting his eyes tight and trying to wrap his head around it all. "Who are you?" He finally asked, trying to fight back the tears threatening to fall from his shut eyes. "And where is my sister?"

"I....I don't know where she might be. Maybe with the Avengers." She told him, not turning from what she was doing. "If I knew where that was I would tell you, but I don't." She glanced back, offering him a small, yet soft smile. "But I can at least tell you who I am. Leanna Palmer.” He opens his eyes again, leaning his back against the wall the began the hallway. 

"Pietro. Pietro Maximoff." She smiled, nodding her head. 

"That's a nice name. Pietro. Sorta...has a ring to it."

"What...are you?" He asked quietly, making her stop in her tracks. "Are you....enhanced like me and my sister were? Or...." He trailed off, not knowing of anything else that she might be.

"They call my kind mutants." She started, continuing to make the lunch for them both. "Humans born with powers rather than being given them or being half....something else. I can heal." She said before disappearing and reappearing before him. He flinched back in shock, breath catching in his throat. "And I can essentially move from one point in space to another. It’s a bit unruly to handle, but it’s why you're here, in my apartment, alive.....rather than dead and six feet under." She added more softly, disappearing back to where she was making food. Pietro kept his distance, fear still reeling through him. It was all too much to take in, too much to swallow. She didn't seem scary, didn't seem like she could hurt anyone. She was a stranger who saved him, yet he felt afraid. Maybe it was the fresh memories of Hydra and Ultron, maybe it was the fact she was born the way she was instead of being given her powers, but he was afraid. 

She remained silent, continuing to cook. Pietro went back toward the single bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He shut his eyes tightly, leaning his back against it and running his hand through his hair. Everything was just....crazy. He couldn't believe he was alive, breathing when he felt his last breath leave his body. He thought he was done for, would never be able to be with his sister again. He never even got to say goodbye. But he was alive and standing there and he could be with his sister once again, but he didn't know where she was and this stranger....Leanna, didn't know where they were either. He would go looking himself, but what would he do once he'd found her? How would he explain this? Would she even believe it was him? Besides, he didn’t even know if he still possessed his speed and if he did, did he lose his control over it. He chuckled humorlessly to himself, shaking his head. 

"This is....this is not real." He told himself, going to lay back on the bed. "I will sleep and none of this would have happened. I will be home....with Wanda...and everything will be as it was suppose to.”


	2. Lost Hope

The sound of gunshots could be heard in the distance, the smell of smoke in the air. Fires were burning down buildings and people were heard screaming left and right. His mind felt numb, his limbs heavy and his lungs on fire. It was hard, if not impossible, to breathe normally. He was back in Sokovia, on that horrible day it all went wrong. He couldn't move, face down in the dirt. He couldn't see, the world around him pitch black. And just as all he noise began to fade, a single scream was heard. No one around him stopped to find it, no one around him moved to look. The only one who could heard it, feel the pain behind it, was him. It was Wanda. It couldn't be anyone else. She felt him die, felt his pain. She felt it all. A single tear fell from his eye before the world around him flooded with colors. 

A flash of red, a flash of silver metal. Ultron's being torn to pieces by a blast from his sister who was now down in her knees and sobbing uncontrollably. She was hurt, and it was his fault. He fell down to his own, hand outstretched as if he was going to comfort her. But he couldn't reach, she was so close yet so far from his reach that it only served to hurt him more. He couldn't fight back tears that spilled from the corners of his eyes and created what felt like a river around him. He couldn't stop her pain, he couldn't make it stop. He failed as a brother whose only jobs was to keep his baby sister safe. 

He collapsed in on himself, head hanging low and eyes squeezed shut. God, what was he to do? He couldn't protect her then, how was he meant to protect her now? Especially when he was suppose to be dead. She didn't even know he was alive! And that was the worst part of it all. She didn't know, he had no second chances. Not now, at least. He had to remain dead, for her safety. Or perhaps it was hers. 

Who knows what things went wrong with bringing him back from the dead. His memories could be warped, his mind twisted. These could be figments of his imagination. He could be stuck in his own mind and his body elsewhere doing god knows what. It wouldn't be like he'd know....

They never should have trusted Ultron...

They never should have gone back...they shouldn't have helped.

He was just doing what he thought was best, but it was the wrong choice. And now Wanda suffered for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter. I’ve hit hard writers block.


End file.
